Des folds his arms, looking unamused. He doesn’t try to explain himself to me, which is probably a good thing—doing so would make him look guilty as fuck, and it wasn’t like he cheated on me—but damn it, I want a little groveling. Is that wrong? He will grovel, the siren insists. All right, if she thinks groveling is kosher, it’s probably wrong. But that doesn’t mean I disagree with her.
